The Living Nightmare
by IPreferParakarry-Zackovic
Summary: A Fire Bro awakes with no power, no memory, and has an evil demon hunting him down. Can he escape the post-apocalyptic surroundings and the demon's wrath? WARNING!: Story will contain extreme blood, violence and torture. Read at your own risk. Story is complete. (OC Prologue)
1. Chapter 1: Awoken

**WARNING**

**This is a horror story, a horror story containing extreme and intense violence, torture, blood and gore, and I made it to scare the living f**k right out of me and you. There is so much of these factors that I will have to rate it as M as soon as I can. If you are below the rating's minimal age or simply don't have the guts for such extreme gore, please turn away now. This is your only warning. Read at your own risk.**

**This story is an original horror, influenced by various horror factors that I don't want to discuss. This story was also the work of a nightmare, as well as the work of an extremely tortured mindset.**

**READ AT YOUR OWN RISK...**

**Living Nightmare**

**Chapter 1: Awoken**

A young Fire Bro lay asleep inside the basement of a dormant but intact house, laying down on a bed in the simple, wooden, empty room.  
His eyes flutterd slightly and his body twitched. He groaned weakly and slowly moved into a sitting position, rubbing his eyes.  
"Ugh, where am I?" he groaned. "What am I doing here?"  
He slid his feet off the bed and laid them on the floor, he tried to stand up, but his knees buckled and he fell to the ground, closing his eyes tightly and retching. When he opened his eyes, he saw a puddle of blood where he had retched onto. He moved his tongue inside his mouth and the metallic taste of his own blood filled his mouth. The puddle of blood seemed to wobble, then started moving on it's own. Mystified, the Fire Bro got up successfully and followed the moving slug of blood. The living slug of blood moved up a wooden staircase leading to the upstairs and the outside world. The Fire Bro opened the door, which promptly fell off it's hinges. The room he emerged in was bare, dusty and littered with wreckage. The slug of blood climed over the wreckage like a moving liquid, the Fire Bro guessed it was, and headed outside.  
"Where are you taking me?" the Fire Bro asked. The slug of blood did not reply. The Fire Bro fought through the wreckage, feeling confused.  
He opened the main door and gazed outside in horror, The air was filled with smoke and chemicals, the buildings were either collapsed, boarded up or burning, the streets around him were littered with trash, glass, puddles of sewage and blood, and most horrifyingly, mounds of dead, dismembered and bloody corpses of people, Toads, Koopas, Goombas and other creatures the Fire Bro could not recognize. He walked gingerly around the mounds of dead bodies, before stopping in front of a pool of blood that seemed to have a message written into it, reading: _If you know who you are, you will be wise and come to me. If you don't know who you are, or if you are not wise enough, you will still come to me, as I own your identity and soul. Better not keep me waiting. -Strahovlada_.

Just the name struck fear into the Fire Bro as much as the message had. He closed his eyes and tried to remember who he was, but he couldn't remeber anything, anything apart from his name. His name was Flare, he was a Fire Bro, but that was all he could remember.  
"Why can't I remember who I am?" he asked himself. He touched the ground and tried to summon any fire, but nothing happened. He didn't feel like a Fire Bro, he felt like a normal Koopa in a Fire Bro's red shell and helmet.  
Still, if he wanted to remember who he was, and he needed to, he would have to confront this person who call his/herself Strahovlada. A knot of anxiety built up in Flare's stomach. He didn't know who he was, yet he felt like his situation was going to get much worse than it already was.  
A glint of silver in a puddle of blood caught his eye. He walked over and found a silver, circular ring lying in the puddle, gleaming and had a flaming symbol engraved on it. Flare picked up the ring and examined it carefully. A name was engraved on it as well, but not in a language Flare could understand. He slowly slid the ring onto his left index finger. A feeling of comfort spread through his body, but it didn't subside his fear of meeting Strahovlada, or gift him with his missing fire powers.  
Flare looked onwards into the downtown of the town, which had a few apartments and tall factories, covered in haze and with a few factories still on fire. Some buildings were crumbling, some were already collapsed, others were missing chunks of stone or their glass windows were smashed in. A cold wind blew from downtown in his direction, chilling him to the bone and sending a ghostly message with it.  
"_Be a good boy and come to me._" the voice hissed. It was a feminine voice that seemed to be crossed with ghostly whispers, a snake's hiss and a seductive charm. "_There is no place to hide, and if you come early enough, I might spare you some of your misery._" The voice sent as much chills through Flare's nerves as the wind had. He took a shaky breath and swallowed nervously. He had to go, he wasn't being given an option, but these messages weren't exactly comforting.  
Flare cursed himself. He was a Fire Bro, even if he couldn't utilize his fire ability. He had to be strong, and he had to find out about himself. He slowly took steps forward, heading fearfully towards the wrecked downtown.

End of Chapter 1.


	2. Chapter 2: Strahovlada

**A/N: A quick fix, you can imagine Flare as a normal Fire Bro, but I see him in Paper Mario TTYD form.**

**Chapter 2: Strahovlada**

Flare anxiously crept through the wrecked downtown, trying to avoid shattering glass under his shoes as much as keep his heartbeat from beating out of control. He still couldn't remember anything apart from his name and his species, and if the only way to get it back was by meeting this evil Strahovlada, he'd just have to take the risk.  
He stumbled over a fallen road sign and fell to the ground, before again retching more blood onto the streets of the downtown.  
"What is wrong with me?" he croaked, his throat burning and mouth full of blood. He took a moment to gaze at his surroundings. He was in a typical modern downtown, full of glass apartments and skyscrapers. However, the downtown area was pretty much what a postapocalyptic downtown would look like. Most of the large, glass windows were smashed in on the buildings, some had partly or completely collapsed, the streets were cracked and littered with rusted car shells, smashed glass, bent and broken lampposts, puddles of sewage or chemicals and most disturbingly, more dead bodies of humans, Koopas, Goombas and other creatures, with their blood and a few internal organs spread around them.  
Flare's stomach knotted up and he felt queasy. He noticed that most of the dead bodies had a similar pattern. Most of them were cut from their throats or stomachs.  
"Wh..who did this?" he breathed nervously.  
"I think you know perfectly well." A raspy, seductive, snake-like voice spoke from behind him.  
Flare knew that voice. He tensed, and slowly and shakily turned around, when he saw who was standing behind him, he let out a low shriek and his legs started shaking violently.  
He stood next to a living nightmare. Her body was human from the waist up, with decomposing, lifeless grey skin that was covered in blood and had crumbled or was crumbling partially in some places, while from the waist down she was serpentine, with her long, scaly lower body dragging along the ground, trailing a trail of acid that burned into the street. Her arms were skeletal, with rusted, broken chains tied to her wrists, one on each side at least six feet long. But her faced scared Flare the most. She had loose, stringy brown hair, her eyes were blue but were glowing unnaturally bright, her face was printed with tattoos of blood showing pictures of torture methods, while below her nose her skin was completely decomposed only showing bone, with her teeth curved into a frightening, evil smile of knife-like teeth.  
Flare only felt sheer terror, probably on a new level of terror, to this evil demon in front of him. He slowly backed up, hyperventilating and still shaking violently.  
"Wh..what do you w..want from m..m..me?!" he stammered in absolute fear. His voice was shaking and quickly turning into more of a squeak, and he could do nothing to stop it.  
The evil demon slithered closer to him. "I am Strahovlada." she spoke, her mouth not moving from her fixed evil smile. "I am the spirit of Terror and Torture. And you, Flare, shall be my next victim."  
This only increased Flare's terror. He flicked his hands, trying desperately to summon even a flicker of fire power, but his power still wasn't there or wasn't responding. Strahovlada laughed, a nightmarish sound that chilled Flare to the bone.  
"How pathetic." Strahovlada mused. "A Fire Brother that cannot control fire. You must be playing me in a foolish game, little boy, because I can sense your power.  
"I don't have any powers!" Flare squeaked in desperation and fear. "Please, you're mistaking me for someone else! I must be just a normal Koopa in a Red helmet! I can't even remember who I am!"  
Strahovlada raised her hand and pointed her finger at Flare. Flare felt his body temperature decreasing, and he retched another load of blood. Strahovlada froze the blood in midair with her hand and drew it towards her. Two of Flare's other retched blood puddles that had turned into bloody slugs also were drawn to Strahovlada.  
"Liar." she hissed with evil satisfaction. "I shall let you know that these puddles are pieces of your soul and memory. And I promise you, you will never get them back." She lashed out with her chain, which struck Flare at his knees. A searing pain flew up Flare's legs, cutting his left knee and causing it to bleed open. Flare screamed in pain and dropped to the ground, putting his arms out to prevent him from falling on his stomach. Strahovlada's chain lashed out again, wrapping itself around Flare's arm and threw him against the ground-floor window of a nearby office building. Flare crashed through the glass, shattering the window into millions of razor-sharp shard, some which pierced Flare's skin, causing him to bleed even more.  
"I am only playing with you, Flare." Strahovlada said with pleasure, saying Flare's name with a hiss. Flare unsteadily got to his feet and tried to run, but Strahovlada's chain caught him again, and tossed him into a mound of dead Goombas. The dead bodies didn't act as a cushion for Flare, who flew straight through the corpses and crashed back-first into the concrete wall behind him, splattered in blood. Flare collapsed to the ground, but still managed to stand up shakily.  
Strahovlada's smile twitched. "You still dare to stand up?" She hissed in anger. "Perhaps you will make an interesting torture specimen. I will be amused to see how long you can last.  
Flare's knees buckled. He didn't want to become an evil demon's guinea pig, but he couldn't gather anymore strength to even stand. He was bleeding from his nose, knees and hands, wishing in vain that his fire power would return, but the fire was gone. He couldn't see Strahovlada bring he chains up once more, nor did he see the chain lash out and connect to the side of his face. His sight was filled with a violent flash of white, then he blacked out.

**END OF CHAPTER 2.**

**Another A/N: Anyone who wishes to favorite and follow this story, please do it soon because by the next chapter this story will be rated M and it might be harder to follow after that.**


	3. Chapter 3: Tortured

**Rating now changed to M, things are going to get a lot more gorier. Sorry for the wait.**

**Chapter 3: Tortured**

Flare's unconciousness only brought on the worst of nightmares. Bloody scenes of torture and the twisted, demonic face of Strahovlada filled his subconciousness. He was wishing to hope up and escape the nightmares, but if he did wake up, he'd be face to face for Strahovlada, and that didn't seem any better to him. Eventually, the images in his head faded and his mind started to return to reality.  
Flare's eyes slowly opened. His head felt woozy, his vision was blurry and the side of face stung with pain. His mouth tasted like blood and the rest of his body was ridiculously stiff. He tried to move his arms, but he felt them being pinned down. He shut his eyes and struggled even more, but he couldn't move at all. Slowly and reluctantly, Flare opened his eyes. He was strapped down on an operation table under a dimly glowing bulb. He turned his head and saw a pile of dead corpses, scattered bones and dismembered body parts. He recognized a Koopa with his eyes plucked and chest sliced open with his organs spilled in front of him. He saw a Goomba with no face and his legs chopped off. He saw the torn, bloody rags of a Shy Guy's clothes laying in the massive pool of blood around the other corpses. "I see you've looked at my previous subjects, hm?" Flare heard the voice of Strahovlada say. He turned his head upwards and saw the skeletal, bloody, terrifying face of Strahovlada, which was twisted into a devilish smile. "Perhaps you will last longer, but we shall see." she mused.  
Flare couldn't do much more than stare into the eyes of Strahovlada with a mixture of terror and anger. His arms and legs were pinned onto the operation table and fire powers were non-existent. Strahovlada moved backwards and moved to the far wall, a wall lined with various instruments of torture, including knives, axes, spears, spikes, swords and scythes, all stained with blood from previous use. Strahovlada picked out a serrated knife and gripped it within her skeletal hands.  
"Let's begin, shall we?" she asked,her voice whispering like metal being scratched. Strahovlada loomed over Flare. She raised her knife and brought it down.  
Flare shut his eyes, expecting the sheer pain an agony as the knife would pierce his skin and cut through his body. He felt his body jerk as the knife went through him and he felt his blood pour over his stomach, but he felt none of the pain. He opened his eyes and looked at himself. The knife was lodged in his stomach, with his blood pouring out from his open wound. Strahovlada looked at him, her skeletal smile intact but her eyes literally burning with anger.  
"Why are you not feeling your death approach?!" She roared, which sounded like a raging demonic voice superimposed over her own terrifying one.  
Flare himself didn't know the answer, he didn't know if it was a good or a bad thing that he couldn't feel his pain. Strahovlada pulled the knife upward Flare's body, toward Flare's heart. Flare jerked again but still felt no pain. More blood seeped out and poured over his body, flowing in streams down his side and towards the edge of the table, before it dripped off the table.  
"How are you doing this?!" Strahovlada roared in anger.  
"I...I don't know." Flare rasped in reply. He could feel his blood stream down his stomach. He didn't know how he couldn't feel the pain, or if he even had enough blood left in him to survive the torture. He wished everything would just end, that maybe he was just enduring a horrible nightmare and that he'd wake up with his real family.  
Real family.  
REAL. FAMILY.  
The thought had rooted itself in his head.  
"What happened to my family? Where are they?!" Flare shouted. Strahovlada just laughed, a twisted, horrible sound emnating from her unmoving mouth.  
"Your family is dead." She hissed proudly. "So is everyone else you've known. Don't worry, you'll join them shortly."  
Flare's eyes teared up with a mixture of tears and blood. Whatever was keeping him from physical agony wasn't helping his emotions. His family and his friends he couldn't remember were dead, murdered by the psychopathic witch demon in front of him. Strahovlada laughed and cut down Flare's stomach, creating a trianglular shape in his stomach. Her skeletal hands sharpened into claws, stabbing into his heart, before tearing it out, a small, bloody, thumping piece of muscle. Strahovlada squeezed it within her hands, forcing blood out of it's veins. Flare felt faint. He couldn't understand how he was still alive without his heart, but just looking at it being squeezed by Strahovlada turned what was left of his stomach, if there was any of it left, inside out. He felt dizzy, swearing and cursing at Strahovlada and promising his revenge as his blood continued to drip from the table, before leaning his head back on it and blacking out.

**END OF CHAPTER 3.**

**Will Flare survive? Find out.**


	4. Chapter 4: Terrified

**Chapter 4: Terrified**

Flare never expected to wake up. He'd thought he'd died in Strahovlada's torture room, either from blood loss or loss of his heart. Either way, no one should be ever to survive what he'd been through.  
So he was surprised to wake up, cold and numb but nonetheless alive. He winced, his body stiff and in pain and his head feeling like a brick. His left arm was shackled above his head to a tombstone. He looked around and saw that he was in a graveyard, with dead trees, animals, bodies and crushed tombstones.  
"Why am I still alive?" He asked himself. "My family is gone. My fire power is missing. I've lost my heart and everything that matters to me." His eyes teared up. Even if he did get back his memory, there would be nothing for him to return to. Strahovlada could just come and kill him now. He didn't care anymore.  
"Strahovlada! Where are you? Why don't you just kill me now?! You've already ruined everything for me!" Flare shouted, tears streaming down his face. He wasn't sure whether to fell pain or sadness or rage, but he was so crossed in his emotions he wanted to tear himself apart. The only thing that kept him from doing so was the thought that Strahovlada would want him to do exactly that.  
A moving stream of blood trickled slowly towards Flare, before forming a message in front of him.  
_'You might think you're safe for surviving the Torture Room, but you're not. I shall leave you for the next ten hours to ponder, but I WILL find a way to make you feel your pain and to destroy you painfully. And if you think you can stand a chance against me, touch your neck. -Strahovlada'_, The message read. The puddle of blood then turned into a vertical,clear mirror, and Flare gasped at his reflection. His skin was pale and stained with blood, his eyes were bloodshot, his neck was wrapped by a chain, his limbs were scarred and where his heart had been was now just an empty, bloody hole.  
Without thinking twice, Flare touched his neck, where the small chain was wrapped around it. He tugged on it slightly, and the chain started to squeeze his neck. Flare grabbed it with both hands and tried to pull it apart, but the chain continued to squeeze his neck, cutting off his breathing. He could see black spots forming in the side of his eyes. Finally the chain released it's grip, and Flare buckled and retched a stream of blood, gasping for air.  
A feeling of hopelessness built up inside of him. He was as good as dead. His family and friends were dead. He couldn't remember anything apart from his name. He couldn't even summon a slight flame to prove he was a Fire Bro. He sat down and leaned back against his shackled tombstone, crouched in defeat, whimpering, with tears streaming down his face and blood dripping from his mouth. He started counting the seconds waiting for Strahovlada to return and end his miserable life. Seconds turned to minutes. Minutes turned to hours. Flare crouched silently and numb, chained next to his tombstone, in a state of complete blankness. At the end of the fifth hour, Flare heard a strange wind blow through the wind, rustling the few leaves strewn across the graveyard. His eyes followed the leaves as they blew towards a line of graves in front of him. Teh leaves disappeared into the ground, much to Flare's astonishment. The ground started to shake very slightly.

Then, a ghostly, mangled, transparent hand emerged from one of the graves, pulling with it a figure that scared Flare to his core. Even Strahovlada couldn't scare him as much as this ghost in front of him did. His transparent, glowing, gray-skinned body was missing his left ribcage, with stagnant blood and displaced organs hanging from the wound. He was scarred in almost every spot of his naked body except his crotch, which was covered by a loose hanging cloth. But his face struck Flare's heart with utter terror. The back of his head seemed to have been chewed off, showing a deformed gray mass that must have been his brain, his eyes were empty sockets and glowing white, his nose was missing and his jaw hung loose underneath his mouth. His whole face, head and body were lifeless gray and splattered with blood. His spineless spirit stumbled towards Flare, while more similar figures emerged from the rest of the graves.  
Flare shrieked, and scrabbled back against his tombstone, hyperventilating, sweating, shaking violently and eyes wide with terror.  
"Flare..." the ghostly spirit whispered/rasped as it staggered closer. "Flare..."  
"Stop! Leave me alone!" Flare screamed, pinning himself against his tombstone. His eyes started tearing up again, more in fear than anything else. "Your time is coming is coming soon. Be ready." the spirit rasped. "You must avenge the ones you've lost."  
Flare shut his eyes tightly, still shaking uncontrollably. "I can't do anything!" he shouted. "I can't use fire!"  
By now, several other similarly deformed spirits were shambling towards Flare as well. "You can." the spirit whispered in unison. "Concentrate."  
Flare clenched his fists tighter than his eyes and focused harder than he ever had. A strange but comforting feeling of warmth spread through his body. Flare smelled metal burning. He opened his eyes. The spirits had stopped approaching, and Flare then glanced down at his left arm, and gasped. The chain confining him to his tombstone had melted. He raised his arms in shock, seeing both of them were covered in flames.  
"My...My fire powers." Flare said, astonished. He looked up to the spirits, but all of them had somehow vanished. Could they have all been a trick of Strahovlada? Flare severely doubted it. Why would Strahovlada want him to discover his fire ability? Remembering Strahovlada, Flare extinguished his flaming arms and instead summoned a small but long and sharp jet of flame from his two index fingers and raised them to his neck. The chain tightened, but Flare persisted with his fire, eventually melting a link in the chain, letting it fall off of his neck.  
HE took a deep breath. A new desire burned through him, it must have been his new fire ability, but whatever happened now, he wasn't going to crouch beside a gravestone in defeat any longer, he was going to destroy Strahovlada and avenge his losses.  
"No more games, Strahovlada." He snarled. "You want a fight? You'll get one."

END OF CHAPTER 4.

**A/N: Did you like it? Do you think Flare will be able to finally stand up to ****Strahovlada****? REview your thoughts on this and the story so far please.**

**A/N: I rated the story with the M rating mostly so that the story can bend anyway I want without fear of going through the T rating. Just wanted to let you know.**


	5. Sorry, guys

**Sorry guys, writing is on hold due to depression. The school douchebags have been targeting me, and I've lost half of my school friends already. Can't get any writing done with my mood at rock bottom.**


	6. Chapter 5: Trapped

**Chapter 5: Trapped**

Flare crept quietly through the streets of the abandoned city, cautiously avoiding any debris and trying hard to keep his nerves. The night had fallen, but the moon was invisible through the haze that hung over the downtown, so Flare had kept his right hand ablaze for vision. He didn't want to draw attention to himself, but he had to in order to see.  
He spotted a chain lying next to a fallen traffic light and bent down to pick it up. Judging by it's rust and bloodstains, it must have belonged to Strahovlada. Flare found this strange. Why would Strahovlada leave her chains lying around? Every time Flare thought about Strahovlada, he touched the hole in his body where his heart should have been, and the fire for revenge burned even brighter inside of him. The flame in his hand had turned from bright orange to a ghostly white. Whatever Strahovlada had done to him or anyone else, she was going to pay for it with her existence. However, Flare had no clear knowledge on how to even fight her. He cursed and picked up the rusted chain, holding it at it's halfway length and swinging the loose end. The edge of the chain caught fire, turning the swinging chain into a spinning ring of fire.  
"Where could she possibly be?" He muttered angrily."She has to pay for the damages she's caused." He felt the ring on his index finger tug at the finger. He lifted it up to look at it and his eyes opened in surprise when he saw a carving of a flame glow with a faint red. Instantly, the strange inscriptions became clear to Flare. It read: _To Flare, the son of the Fire Brothers, whose powers could change the world._'  
Flare felt a strong sense of connection to the ring. The ring had been made for him, made for him by his family. His eyes steamed, literally. All the tears he produced turned straight into smoke.  
"Don't worry." He said, clasping his ringed finger. "I'll make you all proud."  
"I don't think so." a familiar rasp echoed from behind him.  
Flare turned around and drew face-to-face with Strahovlada, in all her horrific glory. She was now wielding two bloody, wickedly sharp scimitars in both hands that seemed to be dripping poison along with the chains shackled to her wrists. Her snake lower body curved around, burning into the street below. If anything, her smile had become even more twisted, her teeth now sharper, her face even bloodier and her mouth now hung open, with two massive, scorpion-esque mandibles snapping inside, dripping mouth foam, blood and poison.  
Flare should have felt terrified. Instead, he felt enraged.  
"You filthy, vile, murdersome demon." He snarled. "You killed everyone in my family. You basically wiped out the Fire Brothers!" He pointed at Strahovlada accusingly, fingers blazing. He was only guessing, but it wouldn't take a detective to know that it was obvious.  
Strahovlada's ghostly, seductive voice seemed to echo from the buildings around him, while her mandibles in her mouth continued to snap. "Indeed I did. You're in the far future now, boy." She hissed. "The Fire Brothers had gotten too powerful, and they actually called upon me, for what? To see if they could destroy me!" Her mouth turned into a vicious smile. "But no one can destroy me. And now that I was free from my prison with my wretched sister, Sanacija, I picked them off, gruesomely and easily."  
"Sanacija?" Flare said, mystified but strangely attracted by the name. "Who is that?"  
Strahovlada's smile dropped, her mandibles snapping in anger. "She is my parallel sister." She hissed, with pure loathing. "But it won't matter to you, since you'll never meet her." She raised her left scimitar and slashed at Flare.  
Flare was fortunately quick in reflex, bringing up Strahovlada's dismembered chain and shooting it like whip, deflecting the sword strike. The chain seemed perfectly fine, while Strahovlad's sword went flying, before being drawn back to Strahovlada through the air.  
Flare stretched his arm in from of him, hand open and fingers slightly bent. A small ball of white-hot fire started to grow, before Flare shouted and unleashed a beam of white fire at Strahovlada.  
Strahovlada stumbled backwards slightly but was unscathed. She laughed, the twisted sound echoing off the buildings around her.  
"Impressive trick." She said teasingly. "But now it's my turn." She started whirling a chain, one that had a Morning Star tied to the end of it. She swung it at Flare, and this time, Flare didn't react fast enough. The spiked ball connected to his face, sending him flying backwards into a bus stop. He went straight through the glass windows with a horrible shattering sound and landed on his stomach, leaving a smear of his blood on the bench. His left cheek stung unbelievably, with blood oozing from the wound before drying up immediately. Flare realized his skin was burning up, causing the blood to dry instantly.  
"It's because I'm a Fire Bro." He told himself, wincing from the pain in his cheek. "It's normal. At least, I hope." He got up and turned away from Strahovlada, running as fast as he could.  
"Where do you think you're going?!" Strahovlada roared from behind him. "There is no place you can hide!"  
'I know that.' Flare thought. 'But I'm not trying to hide.' He had a plan to buy himself some time, and he hoped it would work. With blood dripping from his face, he also hoped that whatever was keeping him alive would last until he could find a way to destroy Strahovlada.

Flare stumbled into a scrapyard. Piles of rusty metal were stacked high all around him, some were at least forty feet high. He stopped in the middle of the yard, completely encircled on all side up unclimable mountains of metal, and when Strahovlada showed up at the main entrance, he knew that he was cornered. He cursed. That was not supposed to happen in the plan, but hadn't expected Strahovlada to be as quick as she was.  
"I thought you would know better than to corner yourself." Strahovlad chided. She raised her swords, which then merged into a razor-sharp cone-tipped spear at least ten feet long and sharp enough to impale someone without any force. Flare backed up against one of the pyramids of scrap metal. Next to his foot was a loose piece of metal while his back was pressed against a sheet of thick iron.  
"Enough foolishness, this ends now." Strahovlada hissed, and stabbed forward with her spear. It went straight through the hole where Flare's heart was and skewered Flare against the thick iron behind him. Flare screamed in pain as the blood poured of the open hole, dripping down his body in streams. Whatever had subsided the pain in the torture room had no effect now, as the pure agony wrapped his body. He shakily moved his leg to try and kick the loose piece of metal and bring the pyramid of scrap crashing down, but he couldn't gather enough strength to give it a kick. Strahovlada's twisted grin bore into him as her horrible laugh echoed across the scrapyard. Flare's eyes started to mist as his tears evaporated instantly. It was over for him. Strahovlada had won, just like she had won against his family.  
'_That's where you're wrong._' a voice spoke inside of his head. A rush of energy ran through his body, and with a gruesome effort, managed to kick to the loose rod of metal out of the scrap pyramid. The entire pyramid started to fall over itself, making horrible clanging and scratching sounds as thousands of pieces of assorted scrap metal fell on top of Flare and Strahovlada, burying them underneath a tidal wave of scrap metal. All fell silent over the scrapyard.

End of chapter 5.


	7. Chapter 6: Escape

**Chapter 6: Escape**

Flare burst out of the ocean of scrap metal, gasping for breath as he tried to staunch the flow of blood that was leaking out of his chest. There was no sign of Strahovlada, but Flare knew that a fallen pyramid of scrap metal wouldn't stop climbed ontop of the pile and ran, trying to get out of the scrapyard before Strahovlada could stop him.  
'What was that voice inside of me?' Flare thought as ran through the mess of scrap, replaying what had just happened.  
He was halfway to the gates of the scrapyard when Strahovlada burst through her pile, spreading rusty, corroded pipes and bits of metal every where. Flare turned around and was immediately hit in the face by a two-foot lead pipe, knocking him to the ground. Flare shouted in pain. His vision was blurry and his head felt crushed, his vision now coated with streaming blood. He got up, head swimming, and saw a blurred image of the nightmare that was Strahovlada, her scorpion mandibles clicking with excitement. Without thinking, he brought out the chain he had found that was tucked to the back of his shell and ignited it, then started whirling the flaming chain.  
"You want a fight?" He shouted. "You can have one!" His heart would have been pulsing if it was still in his body. He looked down at Strahovlada's torso and eyed a small, tied pouch. Flare was certain his heart was in there.  
"Foolish boy." Strahovlada chided. "You can't beat me, as there is no method to beat me. The only spell that might have been able to do that has been lost for millennia."  
"Why are you even telling me all of this then?" Flare asked, skin steaming as the remaining blood evaporated due to his high body temperature.  
"Because there is no hope for you." Strahovlada laughed. "Besides that, your chain is utterly useless. This is what a chain can do." Strahovlada swung her chains around and flung them at Flare, wrapping them around Flare's neck. Flare felt his breath being choked out of him as the grip tightened around his neck. He pulled at the chain, but it was wrapped too tight. Strahovlada hissed evilly as she continued to choke Flare. Flare could feel his vision and thoughts shutting down. It was over, this time, he was sure.  
"No it isn't." The voice inside him said again, this time with stern determination. "Remember your flames."  
With his brain going into shutdown, Flare hadn't thought of that. He now desperately summoned an inferno, the largest he had ever tried, he was sure of it, and tried to burn through the suffocating chains. His whole body blazed wildly, which surprised even Strahovlada.  
"Impossible." She muttered in anger.  
Flare barely heard as he blaze of flame and a raged scream filled his minds. It took a moment for him to realize that the scream was coming from him. The chains wrapped around spontaneously combusted and crumbled to ashes. Flare knees buckled, retching more blood than ever, throat burning and light-headed but nonetheless alive.  
Strahovlada glared at him. "I sense the presence of Sanacija here." She growled. 'That would explain the voice in my head.' Flare thought. He looked at his ring, which was glowing bright red along with a very calming sky blue.  
"Strahovlada!" He shouted. "Sanacija is here! She's helping me, I'm sure of it!" It felt stupid to tell the horrible demon that, but he was hoping the hatred would distract Strahovlada, because he had seen something that might give him a chance to trap Strahovlada for a period of time. He could see Strahovlada baring her skeletal teeth. A small smirk emerged on his face, something that hadn't happened in a long time.  
He flexed his left hand behind his back, melting a small trail through the scrap metal platform he was standing on. He quickly dashed and slid down the melted metal path, breaking out into a full sprint as headed towards his target; an old control panel near the gates.  
"Where do you think you're going?!" Strahovlada roared from behind of him.  
Flare skidded to a stop right in front of the control panel. Fortunately, it was old and powered by coal, so Flare could simply burn the coal already in the machine to activate it. The machine rumbled into life, lights on it lighting up. Flare could hear Strahovlada drawing closer and closer, he could hear the hiss of her voice and her acid-dripping snake tail that dragged across the ground. Flare frantically scanned the control panel, before his eyes lay upon a button labelled: _Activate_.  
Suddenly, he was grabbed from behind and lifted off the ground. Strahovlada had her grip on his arm, her sharp nails piercing his skin while burning it with acid, while her face had dropped into a scowl, eyes burning,which showed off her bloody tattoos even more and made her all the more terrifying. Flare winced in pain. "Trying to be clever with me?" She growled. "Well, here's a fact: Sanacija was never a match for me. Neither was your family. And right now, I'm going to bring you down."  
Flare only smirked.  
"What do you think is funny?!" Strahovlada bellowed, tightening her grip on Flare.  
"I'm not going down today." Flare replied. "In fact, I think we're about to go up!" He twisted his hand out of Strahovlada's grip and slammed his fist down onto the activation button. A magnetic hum filled the graveyard. Strahovlada lunged at Flare, but was suddenly grabbed from out of nowhere, flying backwards, before slamming onto a large black magnet suspended in the air.  
"Too bad your chains are still magnetic." Flare called tauntingly from below.  
Strahovlada roared menacingly from above. It would have terrified anyone, even the toughest, but Flare stood his ground. Strangely, nothing terrified him anymore.  
"Fool! If you think a magnet will stop me-" Strahovlada shouted, before being cut off as the magnet drew thousands of tonnes of metal upwards, creating a makeshift tomb around Strahovlada.  
"I think you just got cut off." Flare said. He was getting cocky, and he'd probably regret it soon, but for now it boosted his confidence. He looked down at the ground, realizing there was a puddle of blood on the ground, his own blood.  
"Sanacija, if it's you who's keeping me alive. I thank you from the bottom of my heart." He muttered softly. He quickly turned and ran out through the gates of the scrapyard, heading back towards the city. Somehow, he was going to find a way to eradicate Strahovlada before she caused any more damage.  
"It's for family now." He muttered.

**End of Chapter 6.**


	8. Chapter 7: Method

**Chapter 7: Method**

Flare stopped in the middle of the wrecked downtown, gasping for breath. He had sprinted to build a gap between him and Strahovlada, knowing that he would need every second. If Strahovlada was correct, and the ancient method to defeat her had been lost for milennia, hoping to find it was simply belief for the insane.  
"I must be insane then." He muttered. He looked down at his silver ring, which glowed with the red symbol of flames, Flare presumed it was the coat of arms for the Fire Brothers, and a light blue diamond, the symbol for the twin sister of Strahovlada, Sanacija.  
That frustrated him. Sanacija had spoken to him twice, very vaguely, but he hadn't been able to talk back.  
Flare pushed the thought out of his head. He had to stay focused. The wind had started to pick up, causing leaves and papers to swirl just above the ground. Loud thunder boomed in the distance. There was very little time to waste. The sky never seemed to light up, but instead kept getting darker. Flare's hands burned with flames as he hurried through the streets.

After three blocks, Flare had a sense that he might be getting close to clue. A mangled, gray arm lay on the street. Flare shivered at the grotesque sight.  
"Wait, tortured bodies..." he thought back to when he had first met Strahovlada, the streets were covered with dead bodies. Could those two events somehow become linked?  
"Follow the sign." Flare heard the voice of Sanacija talk inside his head again.  
"Shut up." Flare cursed, but he looked for possible clues around him, while he continued muttering. "It's nice that you're helping me, but why can't you just show yourself to me? We both want Strahovlada banished." He took another look at the dismembered arm, then realized what Sanacija meant. The hand was clenced, but the index finger seemed to be pointing to the bottom floor of a skyrising office building without any windows.  
He looked towards the building, which had ghostly tendrils of smoke trailing out of it. Flare took in a breath and smelled cyanide. He gulped and swore.  
"Screw it." He muttered. "I've got to find out what can kill Strahovlada."  
He walked inside, the smell of cyanide getting even stonger. He took glances at every detail: The smears of blood along the walls, the growing number of maimed body parts, the dimly glowing lights that illuminated the hallway that grew narrower and narrower. The hallway dipped downwards, delving further underground and starting to form a cracked spiralling staircase. The smears of blood on the wall were growing bigger and bigger as he walked further down, taking every step cautiously. He felt himself slip on something slippery and clung onto the rusted railing to prevent himself from falling. He gagged when he saw what he had slipped on: a real stomach that somehow pulsed, beating slowly, oozing pus and acids outside of it. Flare shut his eyes and tried to put it out of his mind.  
"I hate this nightmare." He muttered venomously. "If I'm asleep, somebody please wake me up. I don't think I can control myself much longer."  
He continued walking down until he reached the bottom of the staircase. It led into a narrow, unlit corridor. He summoned a ball of fire in his left hand and gently started walking down the corridor. The hallway was littered with pools of blood and scattered, pumping organs. Flare covered his mouth and felt his vision swim and his legs grow numb.  
"Stay focused." He whispered weakly to himself. He felt the smell of Cyanide grow even stronger. A solid metal door was at the end of the corridor. He stopped in front of it, and felt a drop of liquid fall on his head. He touched his cheek and brought his finger to his sight. It was blood. He dragged his fingers across his cheeks gently, forming two stipes of blood across his cheeks. He growled with anger and kicked open the door with power taht wasn't his, and it fell over in front of him. The smell of cyanide was now overpowering. Flare walked inside the room behing the door, but the smell of cyanide was too powerful. He pitched forward and blacked out.

**This next part will probably be better if you were to skip it. It's just too bloody, the most goriest thing I've ever come up with and write, and it's not something any average 15 year old would ever write down.**

Flare returned to the world lying down, feeling a constant drip fall on his head, and felt a warm puddle right below him. His eyes slowly opened painfully, while his vision swirled and multiplied. He slowly got up onto his knees. His head pounded and where his heart should have been was a burning flame.  
Another drop fell on his nose, making him forget what he saw from where his heart used to be. He looked up to the ceiling and his body started to tremble.  
Horrible, dismembered bodies of humans, Toads, Koopas and Yoshis, most of them still bloody with mouths hanging agape, hung from knotted chains on the ceiling. Their bodies were wrapped tight with chains that tightened around and through their bloody flesh and horrible, exposed inner body parts. The flesh was broken in many places, exposing jutting bones and veins hanging out, some still dripping blood. Another droplet of blood fell from the ceiling and landed on his face.  
Flare's insides were trying to turn inside out, his body trembling and his eyes tearing.  
"No..." He whispered faintly. His body was tightening, his body temperature rising up quickly, his fists clenching and the blood and tears burning up into steam as his anger increased.  
"NO!" He screamed in anger, his body erupting into an inferno. He threw fire in every direction in rage. "GET ME OUT OF THIS NIGHTMARE!" He was losing control, losing his sanity, his voice turning into a demonic roar. "STRAHOVLADA! I WILL TAKE MY VENEGANGE FOR EVERYONE YOU HAVE TORTURED!" The background started to flicker, the horrible scenes burning into his mind. His flames died down, and he fell forward yet again and lay still.

**Okay, you can look again. I'm sorry, but Flare needed to reach his tipping point. But seriously, that was just too intense. I could feel my right foot going numb as I wrote, like it always does when I get horrified.**

Flare woke up again, soaked in blood, but he kept his eyes shut.  
"Please, no more nightmares." He whispered weakly. He gently opened his eyes and looked was in a small room with no windows, no larger than 6 feet squared, that contained a wooden desk and chair that he was sitting on. The desk had a thick, old and decorated book ontop of it, labelled in strange letters that made no sense. He touched the book, then recoiled and threw up blood onto the wooeden floor. Just like previous retches, the puddle had turned into a liquid slug and slid between a crack in the wall.  
"Why does that keep happening?" He rasped, his throat burning.  
"Strahovlada's curse." Sanacija spoke inside his head. "Every time you touch something in her possession, or if she needs to gain power over you, your body will be forced to retch. The blood contains part of your soul, which she can then use against you."  
Flare swore. Then he thought back to his previous encounters. All the torture, the blood he'd lost, everythng had been caused by Strahovlada, who could take his power, soul and identity in as easy as forcing him to vomit it all.  
"Wait. You answered me this time." He tried to speak to Sanacija, but Sanacija had gone silent again. He took another look at the book, then decided to try and open it again. This time, he was successful. The pages were old and weathered, with the writings and drawings carefully illustated with ink. The language was clear to Flare. He started reading quickly, not knowing if or when Strahovlada would find him. There were chapters on the book were extremely detailled, all revolving around one common theme: Spirits. Flare's eyes widened with shock. Could this contain the method that could defeat Strahovlada? Is this why it was hidden so well? He started flipping through the pages rapidly. He stopped himself on one page, one that was titled: Destroying Spirits. His heart skipped a beat.  
"The answers." Sanacija informed.  
"Shut up or I'll use what I find to destroy you." Flare growled, sick of Snacija's voice without seeing her actual form. He went back to the book, his fingers trailing across the words on the pages. The answers were perfectly preserved and simple. Flare's mouth tightened with determination. This was what he needed to defeat Strahovlada. He reread every sentence in the destruction method three times, then closed the book. Instantly, the room faded into black, then turned back into the destroyed downtown area. Thunder boomed loudly in the background, while the wind had turned into a small tornado. Flare didn't notice, but insted thought back to the method he had read. Could it work? The footnote at the bottom of the page had clearly said it had never worked on any major spirit, including Strahovlada. Flare removed that uncertainty from his mind. He was going to have to experiment.  
"You've been around for too long Strahovlada, torturing thousands of people, murdering as many. It's time I rid you of this world."

**End of Chapter 7. Longest chapter of the story. How will Flare fight Strahovlada? Will he win, or fall to the hands of the demon? C8 will reveal the answers. This story is at it's final hour.**


	9. Chapter 8: Exorcism

**Sorry this last chapter took so long, but I got so bloody terrified of it that it took me two weeks to calm down. I hope you find it just as terrifying as I did.**

**Chapter 8: Exorcism**

Flare trudged along silently through the abandoned city. It seemed so desolate, he thought. The wind blew leaves in and out of the broken glass windows of the massive skyscrapers, thunder echoed through the streets, and the smell of chemicals mixed with the smell of the rotting corpses that were strewn across the uneven, cracked asphalt.  
He couldn't see his reflection, but he didn't want to. His heart was still missing, his arms and body was streaked with blood, either his own or blood he'd staggered through. He had been cut and bruised in several places, the black spot circling his left eye the most prominent. Although he couldn't see it, his eye color had been glowing crimson since he'd rediscovered his fire ability.  
"It really feels like a living nightmare, it does." He muttered to himself as he scanned the surroundings. Strahovlada had definitely broken free from his trap by now and would be hunting him down.  
"Where could she be?"  
His mind kept flashing back to the methods he had read on eradicating spirits. Flare just thought of it as exorcism, since Strahovlada rated even worse than demons to him. If the book had been authentic, he could cast the exorcism spell and destroy Strahovlada forever. It just didn't seem possible to him. Strahovlada was just too powerful to him.  
He tugged nervously at Strahovlada's stolen chain, which was now wrapped around his bleeding left arm. He didn't remember when he had started bleeding, nor could he remember almost anything before he had woken up in the abandoned house in this strange postapocalyptic city.  
"Why is this city like this?" Flare asked to nobody. "Why is it like this? What did Strahovlada do to this place?"  
"I created it." Flare turned around with a vicious gaze, lightning flashing and thunder cracking at the same time. He wasn't surprised to see Strahovlada herself right in front of him, standing over him, her body more bloody, her snaking lower body dripping more acid, her face gleaming with more evil pleasure as well as anger, her teeth sharper while blood trickled from her mouth between the teeth and her eyes burned a glowing red, more evil than anything Flare could even imagine.  
"What do you mean 'You created it'?" He snarled, not scared of Starhovlada's more imposing appearance. It didn't scare him anymore. Nothing would.  
Strahovlada laughed. "This is my world, a world created in my vision: Destruction, Torture, Death, Violence, The sweet rivers of blood that flow out of the souls of the damned. You live in my world now, Flare. I lure the stupid and naive from their worlds into this world, where I feast on their pain, their bodies and their blood."  
"You're a monster!" Flare shouted.  
"I am the spirit of terror!" Strahovlada roared. "And it's time you accept your fate. No one leaves my domain, dead or alive."  
Flare's body started to catch fire. He pulled the chain off of his arm and started whirling it in circles. His ring started to glow as well.  
"Too bad for you then." Flare snarled through gritted teeth. "I'm not dying without you coming down with me. Either you die or we both die."  
Strahovlada's scorpion mandibles clicked with delight. "Perfect. The prey is always better when it puts up a fight." She hissed.  
Flare's mind started running through the exorcism spell's steps. There was no better time than now to use it.

In theory, Flare found the exorcism very simple. The problem to him was putting it into action. Doing the exorcism required a heavy amount of physical and elemental power, and that was for regular spirits and demons. Doing so on Strahovlada might not work, and if it did, it might kill Flare. Flare accepted this fact, but he wasn't going to let Strahovlada get away with her horrors and continue her ways. Rain had started to fall, but not in a gentle drizzle. The full force of the rain came crashing down, in the same force as a waterfall. Flare's entire body steamed as water evaporated instantly off his skin.  
"Start the spell now." Sanacija spoke to him.  
Flare nodded,face grimly determined. He threw Strahovlada's chain to the ground and muttered the first bit of the spell.  
"Obilaziti." He muttered.  
The chain started to extend and warp, tracing a circle around him and then stretching out to Strahovlada, tracing a large circle around her as well.  
"NO!" Strahovlada roared. "There is no way you could have found out the spell!" She sounded shocked, angry, even scared slightly, and lashed her chains out at Flare. Flare didn't even flinch.  
The chain sparked and recoiled inches from his face. Flare realized there was a shimmering red form encasing his body, glowing against the dark skies and the hammering rain, protecting him. He didn't understand it completely, but he wouldn't let himself get distracted. Not now, it was too critical. He closed his eyes, and lightning flashed and crackled close by. Flare lifted his right arm, and thrust his hand out. The palm of his hand glowed white-hot, and a ball of fire started to form and expand. He muttered the second word.  
"Spojiti." He chanted.  
A beam of light shone along the chain, Flare and Strahovlada. The entire world, the rain, the thunder, the lightning, the wind, everything seemed to fade into the distance. Time seemed to slow until it felt like liquid. Strahovlada roared and lashed at Flare, but still could not penetrate the glowing casing around Flare, who kept his eyes shut and his body ablaze.  
"Fool!" Strahovlada screamed. "You cannot destroy me in my domain or you'll be destroyed with me!"  
Flare's concentration started to crack. "Don't listen!" Sanacija called desperately. "She's trying to toy with your mind so she can break through your shield."  
Strahovlada laughed. "I can hear you, Sanacija. You shouldn't have tried to fight back, because you'll go down with this troublesome Fire Brother."  
Flare tried to hold his concentration against the voices of the twin spirits as they whispered pleads, taunts and calls in his mind. Both were trying to shift his state of mind, but in the end, he chose neither.  
'I'm taking down Strahovlada, with or without Sanacija's help.' He thought. He focused his hand in the direction of Strahovlada's form and muttered the third word.  
"Spaliti."  
The ball of white-hot flames in his hand exploded and shot out and Starhovlada. Strahovlada's body was engulfed in flames, and she started writhing and thrashing, her body turning black against the light of the flames, her skin started crumbling slowly, her grotesque face melting horribly and her slimy, snakish lower body started to boil and bubble. The once proud, powerful and terrifying Spirit of Terror had started to turn into a wailing funeral pyre.  
"NOOOO...!" She screamed demonically. "You shall not destroy me!" She summoned her spear with her crumbling, skeletal hands and morphed it into a massive spiked shuriken, throwing it with all her force at Flare.  
"Flare!" Sanacija cried. "Open your eyes!"  
The call was so full of fear and desperation that Flare listened and opened his eyes. He saw the gleaming blade of the shuriken spinning towards him. His eyes narrowed and he ducked quickly, but left his left hand upwards just fractionally, but it was enough for the shuriken to strike and saw off his three middle fingers.  
Flare screamed in pain. He brought his hand up to his face and stared, shocked in horror and agony. His fingers wer gone, while the remainder of his hand immediately started to bleed violently, the remaining bones and nerves hanging loose from his hand.  
Flare felt faint, the protective casing around him shattering, his body wrapping in pain and his cuts and wounds starting to bleed rapidly again.  
Strahovlada laughed, her body still burning. "I told you, you can't win." She chided. "Accept defeat now, and resign your will to me."  
Flare cursed, his eyes stinging with pain. He held his hands down, letting the blood drip and fall to the ground as reality faded in, the pouring rain returning and mixing into the growing puddle of blood around him.  
Flare swore and cursed. His body was now completely streaked in blood, coating completely over his increasingly pale skin, shaking uncontrollably. His face had become a mirror of darkness, giving nothing away and radiating hatred. "**NO!" I WILL NOT SURRENDER!**" He roared defiantly, his body once more bursting into flames. **"YOU WILL NOT GET AWAY WITH KILLING MY FAMILY AND EVERYTHING THAT WAS IN MY LIFE, INCLUDING MY LIFE!"** He shakily raised his hand and shouted out the last part of the spell, no longer caring if it didn't work now: "**PROGNANIK!**"  
The flames wrapping Strahovlada exploded with a violent flash. Strahovlada screamed even louder, her form slowly melting into a swirling, crimson vortex that had appeared below her.  
"NOOO...!" She screamed as she was dragged in to the vortex. "You will not defeat me! Not without me taking your life! It's my turn to cast a spell! My last laugh to ending your life, even if you've ended mine!" As her body was forcibly sucked into the vortex, eradicating her demonic presence from the world forever, she yelled: "RASTRGATI!"  
The vortex caved in on itself, exploding at evaporating into millions of crimson particles, leaving behind only a small, black pouch, the one that contained Flare's heart. The lightning and rain suddenly stopped as well, the sun finally starting to break through the haze and the clouds, even though it was extinguished his body and sighed with relief, calmly letting the blood drip gently to the ground, but it was short-lived. His body started to tremble and jerk violently and uncontrollably.  
"What's happening?" He muttered nervously. His entire body felt as if it was trying to pull itself apart, the blood now gushing out painfully from every opening in his body, including his mouth and eyes. Flare screamed as the unimaginable pain racked his body, before all the blood burst from out of his body in a violent, crimson explosion, sending every last bit of blood and flying and scattering in every direction. Flare's brain started to lose conciousness, and he understood that when he fell, he wasn't going to get back up.  
"Goodbye family, I hope I took revenge for you." He whispered weakly, before his legs buckled and he fell to the ground face-first into the growing puddle of his own blood. As he lay while his eyes closed, his breathing subsiding and his brain started shutting down, he thought of one last thought.  
_'I defeated Strahovlada.'_  
Flare closed his eyes and stopped breathing, and lay still.

**End of Chapter 8.**

**Gah, that was too intense for me, so that's why it took so long to finish. Hope it was good enough. There will be one last chapter though, so don't give up just yet.**


	10. Chapter 9: Recovery

**Chapter 9: Recovery**

Being dead seemed comforting to Flare. No worries, no pain, just a time of waiting as a ghost, waiting for nothing in a void of blackness. Flare couldn't even see himself, nor could he remember what had happened. All he knew was that the was no suffering in his current state of existence.  
Flare's mind started to shift. He felt his ghost being sucked into some type of invisible vacuum, put did not panic. He closed his eyes and didn't resist.  
When he next opened his eyes, he was back in his normal body, lying down on his stomach. He winced as he slowly got himself off the ground. He was back in the postapocalyptic downtown area, but he now knew that this was Strahovlada's domain. He could remember everything that had happened to him: His awakening, his first encounter with Strahovlada, his confusion, his torture, his recovery of fire power, his fight with Strahovlada in the scrapyard, his discovery of Strahovlada's tortured victims, the discovery of the exorcism spell, the use of the exorcism spell against Strahovlada, and the way Strahovlada had been sucked into the vortex, casting her own spell on him, the one that should have killed him. He remembered the last one very clearly, the way his body was gripped by an invisible force, forcing blood to burst out through his cuts, wounds, mouth, eyes and the hole in his heart, before forcing him to collapse to the ground and die.  
"If I died, then why am I alive now?" He asked himself as he stared into the sky. The sun was out for the first time to Flare, but it failed to break through the clouds and haze that surrounded the city. "And if I'm alive, and I destroyed Strahovlada, why does this world still exist?"  
"Because you and I are still inside of it." A calm voice spoke from behind him.  
Flare turned around, his eyes glowing with hatred. After dealing with Strahovlada, he wanted nothing more to do with any type of spirit. But his gaze relaxed slightly when he saw the spirit in front of him. The spirit was a transparent form of a woman in flowing robes that glowed a calming blue. Her face was slightly worn with age but radiated a feeling of warmth and kindness. Her blue eyes glowed, but not as scarily as Strahovlada's had been.  
Flare instantly knew who the spirit in front of him was. "Sanacija." He breathed.  
Sanacija smiled kindly. "Yes, Flare, it's me."  
"Why now? How come you could not show yourself before?" Flare asked.  
Sanacija's eyes filled with sadness. "This will take time to explain. But first, I need to heal you." She placed her hand on Flare's cheek and muttered some ancient words. Flare felt a calm, cool feeling pass through his mind and body, slowly healing his cuts and wounds. Flare sighed with relief.  
"Take a look." Sanacija smiled, summoning a flat, paper-thin mirror. Flare took a look at the mirror. His body had been mostly recovered, except for his left arm, which was wrapped in an arm-length cloth that wrapped around his arm. But his body had been cleansed of blood, although his skin seemed deathly pale. His eyes seemed to glow and blaze a bright scarlet, and when he looked at his chest, he sighed with relief. There was no longer a bloody, empty hole in it, and when he put his hand to his chest, he felt the soft, steady beat of his own heart.  
"Thank you." Flare whispered.  
Sanacija nodded, but she still seemed sad. "I did my best but I failed to fully recover you."  
Flare looked down at his left hand, where his fingers had been sawed off by Strahovlada's shuriken. His three middle fingers were now replaced by three sharp, metallic fingers, but he could still move them like they were normal.  
"It's all right. I'm just grateful to be back in one piece." Flare said.  
Sanacija smiled. "Now, I believe you want answers about yourself and your family."  
Flare's face hardened. "Yes."  
Sanacija nodded sadly. "Very well. Let us sit."  
Flare and Sanacija sat down. Flare sat and held his knees in his hands, while Sanacija took a meditating pose.  
"I'll start with your family." She said, closing her eyes gently. "The Fire Brothers were a well known and very respected branch of the Koopa and Hammer Brother family tree. They had an ancient bloodline as well, one that dated back all the way to the ages of fire spirits themselves. But they had a critical flaw: pride. They believed that they were superior to all other branches, and they constantly were at war, either with other branches or among themselves. That's when the leader, Inzarek Plamen, who was also your father, decided to test his power by seeing if he could eradicate the spirits of the world."  
"Let me guess, he chose Strahovlada." Flare cut in.  
Sanacija nodded. "Many spirits, especially the powerful ones like me and Strahovlada were kept hidden from all but the most secretive people, for the sake of the rest. Inzarek led an army of two-hundred people to find us and eradicate us. Somehow, he managed to find us and unleash us." Sanacija shivered as soon as she said the last words.  
Flare knew something bad had happened. "What went wrong?"  
"Strahovlada and I were released from our hiding. The slaughter that followed was only the beginning of Strahovlada's reign of horror."  
"What happened to you?" Flare asked.  
"I tried to stop Strahovlada, but my power is no use against a spirit like her. She cast one of her curses on me, which exiled me, keeping me away from her. I couldn't communicate to someone within a large area of her presence, with the rare exception, like you, since your power is quite vast. And even then, I can only have limited interaction."  
Flare understood, no longer angry at all the times Sanacija spoke to him inside his head. "What happened to me, then?" He asked. "I mean, where was I when my father and his clan were slaughtered?"  
"When your mother found out that Strahovlada ha broken loose, she did the best she could to hide you from Strahovlada's wrath. She hid you in a place where only few would know and would ever find, even by accident. She cast a protection spell on you with her own life force to keep you hidden and safe, before she collapsed from the effort."  
Flare choked back a sob. His mother had sacrificed herself for him.  
"How long ago was this?" Flare asked, voice cracking.  
"Fifteen hundred years ago."  
Flare eyes widened. "What?!"  
"Flare, the cast your mother set on you also was cast to keep you at your age. You were just a few weeks old. Since the spell was not perfect, you matured one year for every hundred years."  
Flare tried to comprehend that. He was fifteen, yet at the same time he was fifteen-hundred. It didn't make sense to him.  
"So Strahovlada lied about having my memory, didn't she?" He said finally. "It was a trick. Something to tempt you with." Sanacija said.  
"She used it as bait to reel me in."  
"Exactly."  
Flare nodded grimly. "So how did I end up here?"  
Sanacija sighed. "I'm sorry Flare." She said. "I'm trying to compile fifteen hundred years into a single talk, and I'm trying not to confuse you."  
"No problem." Flare said. "I've been confused a lot, so I've gotten used to it."  
"Your world then merged into Strahovlada's world." Sanacija said. "Which is how you ended up here."  
Flare nodded with understanding. He lifted up his ring and tugged at it.  
"The ring you bear is a family ancestry, one that's been passed down through the generations of leaders." Sanacija said, as if she could read Flare's mind. "You are the strongest Fire Brother to ever exist. Your father was a clan leader, while your mother was also linked to one of the strongest fire spirits. When you were born, you combined the two most ancient and most powerful bloodlines, which is why the transcription on the ring says that you have the power to change the world, because you contain so much of it."  
Flare sighed. "Responsibility." He muttered. "I swear to never make the mistakes that my ancestors made." He rose to his feet. "I'm Flare, the last of the Fire Brothers."  
Sanacija rose as well. "Very well Flare, it's time you returned to the real world. The world has evolved, becoming much more stranger. When you arrive there, seek out the one who wears my symbol: The Blue Diamond, or the symbol or Rebirth and Recovery."  
Flare nodded. Then he turned to look Sanacija in the eyes. "Thank you, Sanacija. For everything. I thank you from the bottom of my heart."  
Sanacija smiled sadly. "You are welcome." She waved her hand, and a glowing passage appeared next to her. "And Flare, I have a small request."  
"Yes?"  
"When you get to the real world, please don't forget me. I cannot exist in the real world, but if I could, I would always be at you side."  
Flare smiled. "I will."  
"And Flare, take this as well." Sanacija produced a small necklace, a simple, smooth, dark cloth with a gleaming blue diamond at it's end.  
Flare gently took it and put it on. He and Sanacija exchanged a grateful nod, and he carefully stepped through the passage and closed his eyes.

**End**


End file.
